A Oneshot or two
by Literallyametaphor
Summary: Oneshots of all the characters, starting with Magnus. Set at some point during City of Lost Souls, Magnus thinks on his relationship with Alec


"Alec?"

Magnus' voice was soft in the dim half-light of the room, barely louder than the dust that swirled in the moonlight that broke through the curtains, and no less gentle. He turned his head slightly to the side, to see Alec's eyes still closed, a strand of his hair fluttering with every slow breath. He was lying on his front, arms under the pillows beneath his head, though his face was turned towards Magnus.

So he was asleep—really asleep, not faking, as he so often tried to do when Magnus awoke late at night. Magnus had never been able to work out _why_; perhaps Alec thought he'd confess all his greatest secrets to him if he thought he couldn't hear. It was a good job that he was such a terrible liar, or Magnus might have been at risk of doing just that. But when Alec was truly sleeping, he looked different somehow: Perhaps it was in the way his mouth hung just slightly open, or how his hair actually fell away from his face, rather than hiding him beneath it.

Whatever it was, it was distinctive, and not something that could be easily replicated. Magnus sat up, and reached out a hand to trace the lines of Alec's face lightly with his long fingers.

"I love you." He murmured, the familiar words falling easily from his lips. He had said them a thousand times; to Alec, to Camille, and to many others as well. And every time, he had meant them.

Magnus was not a liar. He did not use love as a weapon, to manipulate and deceive and torment. And when he gave his heart to someone, he did not demand theirs in return. He knew it didn't work that way.

That was how he consoled himself, every time he whispered those same words to Alec, and he did not say them back. He knew Alec thought he hadn't noticed—but he had.

He told himself it might take time; after all, _he_ had been in love before. He knew the feeling well enough when he felt it, with a familiarity he had come to associate with both giddy happiness and dread. Alec had never been in a relationship before. Of _course_ he was cautious, nervous, unsure...

Perhaps he was afraid that Magnus was lying to him. He seemed obsessed with the idea that he was simply another in a long procession, and that Magnus was about to grow bored and forget him at any moment. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course: Magnus was absolutely besotted. Anyone who knew anything could have told Alec that, and yet...

_He still chooses not to believe it._

Maybe, he simply did not love Magnus in return. It was a possibility Magnus had chewed over in his mind at some length, and with each day that passed, it seemed increasingly likely. He was resigned to it; it had happened a thousand times before. He had been left more times than he could count, and for more reasons than he cared to remember.

The undeniable truth was that Alec did not look at Magnus the way Magnus looked at him. Magnus had searched for some reflection of the absolute adoration he knew was written on his face every time he looked at Alec, but he had not found it. It was clear that Alec liked him, and wanted him—maybe even _cared_ for him... But did he love him? Of that, he could not be so sure.

He had accepted it. He would willingly have walked over broken glass just to be near Alec. He was in love with him—so in love with him—that not being loved in return seemed almost a small price to pay.

But that didn't mean it didn't _hurt_. He wanted Alec's love more than he had wanted anyone's before; so much that it was like a physical ache in his chest whenever he thought about it. He knew that, if Alec did not love him, eventually he would realise it, and leave. And Magnus would be alone, again.

_Even if he does love you, it's not going to last_. Whispered a nasty voice in his head. _Even if he stays with you until his last breath, you will be alone again one day. You always are._

Magnus sighed, and turned away from Alec. Not for the first time, his mind strayed to the Book of the White, sitting open on his desk, though buried where Alec couldn't see it beneath piles of work and paper.

_It doesn't have to end like that. Not this time..._

Mortality. The chance to grow old together, a chance to hope, as Alec had put it. The chance for Magnus to be with someone he adored, and not find himself left behind after they died. Finally, finally, an end to it all.

And he would have done it, in a heartbeat, had he not been afraid that Alec was—at some point—going to leave him. And what would he have then? He would lose his youth, and all the time he was supposed to have on his side, only to be just as alone as he had been before.

And there was something so _final_ about it. Magnus loved being alive. There were always opportunities, always unpredictable meetings and chance occurrences. The dead could not change or grow: They rotted in the cold ground, and remained forever as they had been.

Beside him, Alec stirred suddenly, rolling onto his side and muttering something in his sleep. Magnus could only make out one word: Max. It seemed Magnus was not the only one thinking of the dead.

"I would do it, you know," He informed the sleeping Shadowhunter. "I would die for you. If only I knew that you wanted me to. I would do anything for you. Even leave you."

That was the only other option Magnus could foresee. He would not make Alec immortal, not for all the time they could have together. The price was too high, even for him.

But he needed Alec to be happy. And if they couldn't be happy together...

He could almost hear Alec arguing back at him. _If you love me so much, why won't you tell me about yourself? Why won't you tell me about your past? Surely it's not so much to ask?_

The answer to that was simple, although Magnus suspected Alec would not understand. _Because it hurts. Because the more of myself I give to you, the less I will have left when you are gone. _

"And you will go. Sooner or later."

"Go where? Magnus, what are you doing?"

Magnus froze as Alec's blue eyes fluttered open. How long had he been awake?

"I was just about to get up," He lied.

Alec frowned. "But it's the middle of the night?"

"I know."

"Come back to bed, Magnus. It's so late..."

A pale hand reached out for him through the gloom, and Magnus felt his heart constricting in his chest.

He wanted so badly to believe...

"Okay," He found himself murmuring, leaning back and sliding into bed beside Alec. "If you really want me to..."

He felt rather than saw Alec smile. "Sorry I woke you." He said.

He got no reply, and when he looked over at the Shadowhunter, he was already asleep again, although this time Magnus imagined he could see a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

He groaned.

_Why do you always have to make it so hard...?_


End file.
